Take
by ThatGuyBehindTheCounter
Summary: B,E. They meet up in Tortuga for another one night stand. If you have tender sensibilities, check the rating and take it to heart.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: It's not pornography, it's art :o)

Nonetheless, I warn youngsters, nuns, and recovering sexaholics to please forego this story. Readers: ye be warned.

* * *

It was all well and good to flirt with Captain Barbossa at the dirty Tortuga pub, even to kiss him and sit on his lap while all the surrounding pirates teased and made lewd comments, but when Elizabeth actually found herself alone in a bedroom upstairs with him, she hesitated.

"Listen… I don't know," she said uncertainly, holding closed what laces remained. "Captain, I should tell you…"

"I know the boy's had you, and I don't care," he answered. "Ye can tell him or not tell him about this, it don't matter to me. Elizabeth… it's just tonight. Are we clear?"

She thought about it a moment, then nodded.

"Good." He took off his coat and sat down on the bed. "Get rid of that dress," he ordered. "Now."

The next thing she knew they were tangled up together on the bed, naked, kissing and touching. She was having a fine time… until he put his hand down between her legs and began rubbing, hard.

She squirmed a little and complained breathlessly, "Ow – too rough."

He smiled peacefully down at her. "I don't care." She made a questioning sort of noise, so he explained: "I'm not pleasurin ye, you silly wench."

"Then wh-what…"

He shifted his hand so he could press a finger inside her. "I was a stable boy til I went to sea," he said, watching her face carefully. "And I learned y'always have to break an animal in afore you ride it."

Elizabeth's cheeks flamed up and she sputtered incoherently with outrage. Somehow, though, her body wasn't behaving. Despite his words… or perhaps because of them?... she was spreading her legs and arching up for him.

Not in the least surprised, he grinned and began working another finger in. "Otherwise ye won't be able to take what I want ye to take." After a long wriggly while he withdrew his hand and glanced down at it. "I like me whores very wet and swampy."

Finally she spoke up for herself. "I'm not your whore," she gasped, then squealed when he dove back in to touch her some more.

"No, perhaps not yet," he agreed. "But before tonight be over, you'll wish you were. Are ye ready?"

Ready? The question confused her; Will never asked whether she was ready and she had no idea what he meant, but it turned out not to matter. Forgetting her determination not to beg, all she could think to say was, "Captain, please…"

"Aye," he laughed, "The missie's ready." He positioned himself on top of her and smoothed her hair off her forehead so he could look her in the eyes when he breached her for the first time.

She gasped as a sudden rush of sensation washed through her – for some reason the image of a rainbow came to mind – and when he started to move it only got better. He went deeper and then shallower and deeper again, never quite leaving her body but only rubbing constantly over every inch of her insides.

At first she didn't stir, terrified to do anything that might disturb what he was giving her, but soon he would no longer allow this. He gathered up both her hands in one of his and pinned them over her head. "I'm not in the habit of beddin a corpse, Elizabeth," he growled. "Move – or I'll make ye."

He paused to see what she would do.

"But… but I… please," she whispered in confusion, with no idea what he wanted.

"Suit yourself – I warned you." Barbossa stabbed into her so fiercely she thought she might split open, hard and jerky thrusts as though he were wenching on a time limit.

"Oh!" She convulsed in panic, hips arching up off the bed… and somehow that gave her a burst of pleasure so powerful it took her breath away. She arched again, and again it happened. She realized it was because when she moved like that it allowed him to reach some new and special spot, and after that she couldn't seem to stop. She was excited beyond all reason at the idea that she was offering herself, all the way, helping him to take full possession of her body…

When Barbossa saw that she was moving as requested, he smoothed out his choppy rhythm into long hard strokes that rocked the bed against the wall. He let go of her wrists and put his hand to her cheek almost tenderly. "That's better, missie. _That _be how I like a girl to take it."

She whimpered, nodding, nothing in her mind save an overpowering need to feel and hear _more_. She reached for him, clinging to him, pulling his weight down on top of her, and murmured, "Yes, come on, _please_…"

He chuckled into her ear and kissed the side of her neck, then sat up and pulled back to his knees. He lifted one of her legs up over his shoulder and pushed slowly back inside her. She grabbed at the sheets by her sides, panting, eyes squeezed shut. He smirked. "Please what?"

"Please I don't know."

He _tsk_ed at her. "Elizabeth."

"Please… please have me," she begged wildly. She could hardly find words for what she meant. "Own me." Still not good enough, but suddenly another one came to mind. "Gut me."

"Mmm – that's a good girl." It was a nice change of pace to bed a literate, articulate young lady who appreciated the value of words and responded to them so beautifully… "You want me to wreck ye from the inside out," he growled, watching her breathing speed up still further. "Pound ye until there's nothin left to pound. In fact, missie… you want to be my whore." She was nodding furiously, flushed and sweating, so beautiful that he couldn't resist pressing her. "Say it."

"I… I want… I _am _your whore," she croaked. "Please…" He lowered her leg back to the bed and lay atop her again, but held off entering for a while. After a couple of deep breaths she finally located her vocabulary. "I am your prize and your property," she said quietly, raising her hand to his face and very proud that he turned to nuzzle into it. "Take me."

He wasn't sure he could wait any longer even if he wanted to. He drove into her, hard and fast.

Although she whimpered and pleaded and gasped _yes, _he was rabid with the desire to brand ownership into her even more clearly. He kissed her with bruising intensity on the lips, then wrenched her jaw open and spat into her mouth.

She licked her lips, shocked, and stared up into his eyes. They were half-closed, and she fancied she could see a lazy sort of contempt fighting for space alongside the obvious heat of passion.

"Captain…" she whispered, and then he really went to town on her. She was writhing desperately beneath him, but it felt so good that he didn't for a moment imagine he could take time to help her reach her pleasure too. His overtook him and he was hanging on for dear life, hands tangled in her hair, eyes closed and head thrown back.

He didn't know what she was looking at or feeling, and for that one perfect moment he didn't care. He was still shaking long after he came back to himself, breathing in great loud gasps of "oh…oh…God…" It was a while before he thought of Elizabeth, and when he finally looked down and saw the awed and almost frightened way she was watching him, he eased out of her with a self-conscious little laugh.

She jumped when he moved. He realized it would be horribly unkind to leave her in such a painful state of sensitivity and frustration… and besides, it probably wouldn't take much at this point anyway…

So he lay down beside her and gathered her against him as though to cuddle. As soon as he'd caught his breath, he reached between her legs with his far hand.

"What are you doing?"

"This time I _am _pleasurin you," he explained. "Enjoy, miss – you've earned it."

He had meant to just rub her til she was satisfied, but the way she was squirming under his hand gave him a better idea. He sat up against the headboard and motioned for her to come sit on his lap. She did as she was told, kneeling, straddling one of his legs. He put his hands on her hips and rolled her slowly forwards and back.

Her breath hitched up right away and she grabbed his shoulders for support. "That's right, missie," he told her, guiding her just a little faster. "This be how it's done. You take what you want." She found her rhythm and began rocking against him on her own, so that it was no longer necessary for him to shift her hips for her. He slid one of his hands around to her rear and with the other reached up to her chest.

He soon realized that neglecting her breasts up til now had been positively criminal. When he cupped one in his hand she shivered, when he pinched the nipple she squeaked, and when he used his fingernails even lightly she moaned. A lot.

Still, one hand for two breasts was hardly enough, so he peeled one of her own hands from his shoulders to help out. She kneaded herself almost as firmly as he did, and he had to laugh, "You _are_ a shameless little thing."

"Is that… how you like… your _whores_?" she asked breathlessly.

"Aye," he said, noticing how she sped up when he talked. "But you know you're not a whore – I'd be _payin_ a whore. _You_ let me use ye for nothin." She was on the verge. What put her over was when he growled, "I must admit, Elizabeth… of all the loose women I've known… you've been one of the best."

He held her close and she shook against him, making some noise into his shoulder that might well have been a scream had she not muffled it by biting him. He rubbed her back and her hair, soothing her until her heartbeat finally calmed down to something resembling normal.

Once she could breathe again, she crawled off him, threw a blanket over his lap (it was sticky from the mess she had made on it) and lay her head down. "Captain, I don't… I mean…" she locked her arms around his waist and squeezed him, unable to find even the words to say that she had no words.

He laughed, resting a hand on her matted curls. "Did you know I come to Tortuga this time every year?"

He couldn't see her face but he could hear that she was smiling. "Coincidentally enough," she said, "I think, from now on, I do too."

* * *

TBC. 

There's more to this story in my head, and if you're interested, I'll post it. In other words: review!!!

Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time they met Elizabeth jumped on him so enthusiastically that he was half-undressed before he even managed to disentangle his tongue enough for speech. "So did you miss me, then?"

She kissed him again and finished with the buttons of his shirt, then dropped down to start on his pants. "Captain, you have no idea how _hard_ it is-" ("Oh, I think I do,"), "Going to bed every night – Will and I are married now, did you know that? – going every night and knowing there's _more_…"

She worked his pants down his legs. When he stepped out of them he put a hand on her head and leaned to steady himself. It sent a shiver through her.

"Are ye of a mind to be _gutted _again tonight, missie?" he asked when she stood. He already had possessive hands on her waist and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to just melt into him and do whatever he told her…

But she had a year's worth of fantasies to fulfill this evening, and the memories might have to last her _another _year besides. She would not rush. "Wait," she breathed, stepping back. "Sit down – lie down. Let's take our time."

He cocked his head and squinted at her, trying to decide if she was joking or not. "_You _lie down," he said when he couldn't tell, "And quit bein silly."

She stepped back again, with her hands on her hips. "No. We do it my way or we don't do it at all."

With a slow, quiet laugh he came up to her and pulled her flush against him. "Is that so?"

"Yes," she said with certainty, "And I'll never come back again if you force me." She avoided the thought that she might be deliberately provoking him to do just that.

He looked her over, clearly considering it, then turned away. "Very well, I'll yield this one. But miss…" He sat down on the bed and somehow it didn't make him any less intimidating. "You'd best not show me s'much as a _particle _of defiance for the whole rest of the evenin."

She stepped out of her dress and pranced over to him in her shift. "Well, I suppose it depends what you consider defiance, doesn't it? Lie back."

He lay down, curious to see what the innocent little Miss Elizabeth had in mind. She crawled up and straddled his hips, but when he tried to reach for her laces to undress her the rest of the way, she grabbed his hands. "No – not til I say."

"So _that_ be the name of the game?" Smiling, he made no effort to pull free.

"Yes – that be the name of the game." In her dreams she had him spread out and immobile, and while she knew she had no way of holding him like that in real life, she wanted at least to get to see how it would look.

So she stretched his arms apart and over his head, towards the bedposts, and closed his hands firmly around the iron bars of the headboard. When she let go he surprised her by gripping on his own, hard enough that she could see the muscles tensing in his forearms. "Perfect." To reward him for his cooperation she opened her laces and shimmied out til she was naked to the waist. When she bent down to kiss him, he raised up as far as he could to meet her without breaking his grip. She ran his hands all over his chest and arms, loving the strain there.

"'_Lizabeth,_" he breathed into her mouth, bumping his hips up a little.

She could feel his organ against her, hard and hot even through the fabric of her skirt. Suddenly it became imperative for her to feel him _without _the skirt, so she scooted back, removed her shift entirely, and situated herself so that she was just straddling one of his thighs. She rocked forwards and back, the trick he had taught her last time, breathing heavy with not just the feeling but also the fact that he was watching her do it. She had one hand on his waist, wrist just barely brushing his needy parts, and used the other to draw gentle tickling scratches down his chest.

"Elizabeth," he complained. His shoulders bunched up as he squirmed, a fine sweat breaking out over his forehead, but he didn't let go of the bars. It occurred to her that she would be able to torment him pretty intensely if she wanted to – his pride would keep him still a lot longer than anything she could have devised on her own.

Little Elizabeth finally got up the nerve to actually put her _hand _on him, and he thrust up against it over and over even though he knew it would be torturously inadequate. He writhed til his arms ached and the headboard creaked with the pressure.

At last Elizabeth left off teasing in order to concentrate on rubbing herself against him, and the sight of her satisfying herself while he suffered was just too much to sit through quietly. "Elizabeth… I promise I'll make it worth your while…"

She crawled up to sit on his hips again and leaned over him. "Did I tell you you could talk?" She put her palm to his cheek and tapped, a question. His eyes drifted half closed and he gave her a little nod, so she slapped him hard enough to make a noise.

"Mmm." He liked watching her face; the whole thing clearly amazed her and he was just itching to get on top of her and amaze her further… She pressed down onto him but fortunately, their position now meant that _neither _of them could really get what they needed. Soon she gave it up.

"All right," she whispered, kissing his cheek where she had slapped him. She hadn't even left a red mark, and almost wished he would annoy her so she could try again. She reached out and stroked his wrists til he let go of the headboard…

… and then gasped as he grabbed her hands instead and bucked her off suddenly, flipping her over and jumping on top.

"Awful, awful, _teasin _little thing," he growled as he shoved inside her. He gave her just a second to adjust before really getting to it. "Naught in the cards…but this…miss," he said between breaths, "So I hope…ye don't expect…nothin…gentle…"

She was squeaking helplessly as he plowed her and punished her, expecting to die at any minute because it surely didn't get any better than this… But then it did: he stretched herarms out the way she had stretched his, forced her hands to the mattress and held them there. When she found she actually couldn't free herself, she looked up at him and breathed _oh _in delighted terror, and he groaned, "Too much…Lizabeth, no-"

He lowered his head and pounded into her fast and hard and desperate. In that moment he was almost as helpless as she was, grunting as though in pain, squeezing her wrists so hard the bones creaked, well past the point of control. The sight of him in that state – more, the realization that _she _had put him there – was too much for Elizabeth as well. Her body seized up, she saw stars, and when she could breathe again she realized she had entirely missed the joy of feeling him finish.

Still, she felt too good to regret anything just yet.

* * *

TBC, probably. I think these two make a hot couple. 


	3. Chapter 3

She found him at his usual seat and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello," she said nervously when he turned around. "I just came to see you to tell you… I can't see you this time." It had only been four months since last visit, but if he missed her half as much as she missed him, he was going to kill her.

"It appears that you're seein me this very moment."

"No, I mean…" she rolled her eyes impatiently. "I can't _see _you."

He stopped pretending not to understand. "Why's that?"

"Because…" She couldn't bring herself to say the words, worried that he might never want her again if he thought about it, so she just rested a hand on her stomach until he took her meaning.

"Ah. I see." He didn't appear disturbed. "And pray tell, where d'you get the idea that I'll be lettin you off the hook this evenin in consequence?" He slapped a coin on the bar and nodded farewell to the barkeep, then ordered Elizabeth without looking: "Follow me."

She hurried after him, elbowing her way through the crowd. She waited til the privacy of the bedroom to say, "Didn't you hear me? I said I can't – I'm with child."

Barbossa put his arms around her anyway. "And _I _say, congratulations on that. And I also say: even if I can't bed you don't mean y'wont be pleasurin me one way or another." He nodded towards the floor. "Down."

Her look of utter confusion told him that this would be a new one for her. So much the better. "Take your knees, and put 'em on the carpet," he clarified, smiling at the thought of what she would do when she caught on.

She knelt down, her dress fanning out around her. "I don't understand."

"You will," he assured, hands going to his breeches. "In fact it'll probly be comin natural to you – you women never shut your mouth to begin with."

Elizabeth had never seen an erection this close before. She stared at it, then up to his face, then back again. She thought over what he'd said, and her jaw dropped as the murkiest beginnings of comprehension surfaced.

He ran his thumb over her lower lip. "Aye, exactly."

He put his hands to the sides of her face and moved her nearer. "Open up… s'right." He let it rest lightly on her tongue, just an inch or two, then ordered, "Suck."

She closed her lips around him hesitantly and looked up for direction. "Mm-hmm," he encouraged, pressing a little further into her mouth. "Use your tongue, aye. Don't be shy to touch."

She pulled back. "I've never… I mean… Does everybody do this?"

"Me humble opinion," he laughed, toying with her hair, "Be that every wench worth her salt ought be able t'figure it out. Course, if you think you're not up to it…"

She rolled her eyes and gestured towards the bed. "Oh, please! Of course I will, I was just _wondering_. Sit down." He sat and she crawled over to him, brushed a lock of hair off her face, and went to work.

At first he was active in guiding her, resting a hand on her head to pull her closer, whispering words like _deeper, aye_, or arching his hips to work himself a little further into her mouth. Soon she seemed to get the hang of it and he let go, to see how she would do by herself.

She was warm and wet and endearingly unsure. He would have been content to sit back and enjoy her ministrations all night, except that she eventually rocked back on her heels and rolled her neck around.

"Here." He stood so that she wouldn't have to bend to such an unnatural angle. "Better?"

"Mmm-hmm," was all she could answer, because her mouth was full – of him. He liked that.

But in this position it was impossible for him to resist holding her head and thrusting. She didn't seem to mind at first. After a while, despite all his intentions to be a gentleman, it felt so good that he growled, "More" and pushed all the way into the back of her throat.

She gagged at that and for a moment couldn't breathe, so she heaved away from him in sudden panic. "Apologies," he gasped. The fist in her hair relaxed into a rough caress. "Truly. I just…"

There was a pleasurable twist in her belly at the realization of just how much he wanted and needed her in that moment. His voice was rough. His hands, which had retreated contritely to her shoulders, were damp and hot. She knew he was hungry and wanted him to satiate himself, to use her for it, but couldn't quite bring herself to say anything of the kind aloud.

So she took his hand, put it to the back of her head and looked up at him, willing him to get the message.

He got it. He rubbed over her red puffy lips, then plunged back in all the way.

This time her gagging didn't stop him from powering ahead until her face was pressed flat against him. In fact (though he would later feel a little guilty about this) he angled himself so that she would gag and choke as much as possible, because the spastic contractions of her throat massaged him better than anything she could do on her own. When he withdrew to let her breathe, she didn't voice a word of complaint but still he asked, "Y'all right?"

"Yes. Believe it or not I'm fine and more," she answered, bold enough to touch him now without being ordered.

"Good. _Oh-…_Open." She did, and this time he didn't hold anything back – long strong strokes that rasped over her tongue and bumped him against the back of her throat and might have made her fall backwards had he not been holding her head still.

In and out, powerful and rhythmic, and so good he moaned aloud. Elizabeth had long ago gotten the hang of moving in time with his thrusts, and now began also pressing up with her tongue to squeeze him. She sped up when he breathed her name. He hissed _yes._

"Mmm." She found she liked to hear herself muffled in this particular way. She also liked the awkward squelching sound it made when it went too deep – which was often – and the quiet gasps of _God _and _Lizabeth _that Barbossa could not quite seem to control. She moaned again and reached around him to run her hands over his buttocks and grasp his thighs as though to hold him even closer.

He shoved hard against her face a few times, thrusting deep into her throat, and finally held it there. For a second Elizabeth felt like she was drowning, and by his loud string of swear words she knew exactly why.

She wiped all the slobber off her mouth and stood up slowly. Barbossa had collapsed to the bed, lying there like he would never have the energy to move again. It seemed to be all he could do to pat the space next to him.

She lay down, bemused. "Good?" she asked.

His lips quirked. "I think p'raps ye should get yourself with child more often."

"It's not funny," she sulked. "I'm glad _you're _happy, but as for me, it'll be another six months before the baby comes, and then…" Her eyes got wide as she thought it through, and she wailed: "… And then I can't take off straight away while it needs me constantly, can I… God, I won't be able to see you before next winter!"

"Fortunately we seem to've found a very agreeable alternative."

"Agreeable for _you,_ maybe, but think how long _I _have to wait! It's not fair!"

He sighed. "You and the boy still live in Port Royal?"

"Yes, we- Captain Barbossa, you're not proposing to come to _me,_ are you?"

He shrugged as though it didn't matter, then kissed her on the top of the head. "Least I can do. Six months, then, miss. Soon as you're quit o'that creature I'll come take care of ye straight away. How's that for fair?"

* * *

TBC.

I wonder if they had a name for booty calls back then…

Anyhow, for those who like the aggressive side of dear Lizzie, that should come out a bit next chapter. Let me know what you like so far. I think I'll probably do like two or three more installments, and then let these poor people get back to their PG-13-rated Disney lives :o)


	4. Chapter 4

Elizabeth had taken to sulking in front of the mirror for at least a quarter of an hour every day. It seemed that no matter what she did she would never look quite as good as before the baby, no matter how hard she tried her horrible stubborn body would never-

"_I_ think you're lookin delicious."

Elizabeth jumped at the voice from the shadows and only just managed not to scream. "Goodness, you scared me," she breathed, pulling her robe closed. Although on the one hand she didn't like to be seen looking so pudgy, she was still amazed and flattered that he had actually come all this way for her, taking time out of his busy schedule of pillaging, risking capture… "How did you get in here?"

"Now none of that," he said reproachfully. "Do I ever ask you?"

"Captain, I know discretion is important, for both of us… especially here… but you can trust me," she assured, before she remembered what she had planned for him. She had been getting heated over this idea for weeks now. She had promised herself that _if _he actually came to see her – which he probably wouldn't – then she would find some way of overwhelming him the way he always did her. For that he was going to have to hold still. For _that, _she had a pair of shackles tucked under her covers. How she was going to get them on him, she had no idea.

"You can't trust anybody," he said, and she tried not to look guilty. "I hope the birth went well?"

"Very well, thanks. I mean, as well as they usually go, I suppose. You know, it was even more terrible than I was expecting. I'm glad she's a perfect and beautiful little angel who leaves nothing at all to be desired, because I am _never _having a child again."

He didn't ask to see the baby and she didn't offer. He just laughed, "Lusty little thing like you? Keep your hands off the men for the rest of your life? I doubt it."

She tried to summon up some indignation, but found herself smiling. "Well, as you said last time, there happens to be a perfectly agreeable alternative…"

"Agreeable for _me_, maybe." He snorted. "Some day I'll have to show ye the flip side."

"The flip side?"

"Not tonight." He pulled her close and ran his hands over her body through her robe. "Tonight I'll have ye proper. We've waited too long as it is."

She led him into the master bedroom – why not, since Will wasn't expected home for two days and nobody would disturb them there in the meantime? Besides, it was a big canopy bed, and if she could just get him to stand up against the bedpost, she could lock his hands behind it. And then _he_ would see what it was like to be terribly nervous and helpless in the hands of a sex-crazed lunatic.

In the end she decided on the method that had worked so well with Jack. Under cover of a very aggressive kiss, she backed him up against the post and began working his coat off his shoulders. The clattering of his sword to the ground nicely covered the noise as she fished out the irons, and when he went to tug his coat off over his hands, he put himself in perfect position for her to lock them on.

When he heard the twin _click_sfelt the unmistakable cold metal at his wrists, Barbossa jerked away but it was too late. The chain ground against the bedpost and the bed didn't budge. "What-"

"Shh." She put a finger to his lips and pleaded, "Trust me?"

He was suddenly short of breath but he ordered himself to calm down. She almost certainly meant him no harm, and of course losing his head would only make things worse regardless of what his predicament turned out to be. He tried to laugh. "Do I have a choice?"

"Not really." She kissed along his jaw to his lips and was relieved that he opened his mouth to her. Good – he couldn't be _too _upset if he could kiss like that. She leaned her body against him and hugged him tight, amazed at how different it was when he couldn't manhandle her.

After a while it seemed like he had relaxed enough, so she knelt down, pressed a kiss to his belly, and slowly opened his pants. "Have you missed me?"

He sucked in his breath as she started to lick him. "Aye, I'll admit I have. Lots of wenches, but- ooh_… _none like you."

She was having fun, taking him deep in her mouth the way he liked, and then tapering off to teasing caresses designed to make him squirm. Every now and again he would reach for her head without thinking about it, and the chain would stop him after a few short inches. At first it was merely frustrating, but the worse he wanted to the more disturbing it was to be prevented. Finally he heaved at it with all his strength, and though the chain made a terrible noise against the bed, he was still stuck.

Elizabeth stood up, staring into his eyes, and kissed him. She unbuttoned his shirt and put her palm flat on his chest. "Your heart's pounding."

"That be the excitement," he answered, defensive.

She reached around to rattle the shackles. "Are you afraid?"

A second passed. "A little."

She put her lips to his neck. "So am I," she said between kisses, "Because I can't even imagine what you're going to do to me after this."

The open collar of his shirt was getting in her way, and he didn't like her shivery kisses to be interrupted. "Elizabeth," he breathed, shrugging his shoulder to indicate the shirt, "Cut it off – I've got others."

"Patience," she giggled, "We'll get there." She opened his shirt the rest of the way and raked her nails down his chest hard enough to leave four livid lines from his throat to his waist. She knelt down and, before going back to work on him, said, "I want to hear what you're going to do to me once you get loose."

_Kiss your feet if you'll do that a little longer_, he thought. As though reading his mind she stopped what she was doing, and started teasing him with light little licks instead. "Oh- _arr_… no," he stuttered helplessly, trying without success to push himself in deeper. "Lizabeth…n- that's not right, go back… _aah_- behave yourself… stop it! _Oh, _no I said s- _mmn_, you're not deservin of a bed tonight, you wretched thing… no-…" He was trying without success to rip the chain right through the bedpost. As it got worse he descended into a series of wild threats. "I'll do ye on the wall instead! I mean it! Throw y'right up against it and tear into you… _Ah _you're askin-! Askin for it, by God, I'll bend ye over that table and take you from behind like the whore you are…"

She loved the way he raged and struggled. To enflame him more she would move well and firmly for a few strokes, then stop, then begin again but lighter or shallower. He got more and more creative in the list of things he was going to do to her in consequence, and she got more and more interested, until finally she felt she couldn't try either of their patiences any longer. "Say it," she ordered.

"Elizabeth…"

"Say it." She tickled at him with her hand, then put him back in her mouth and gave just the lightest scrape of teeth. "I mean it."

This the timid little thing who hadn't even known how to move underneath a man! He couldn't wait any longer to have her, no matter what she made him say. "Elizabeth, _please_."

She stood and took the key from her robe. "Once more."

"I said please." She was a sight all over, mouth very red and chest heaving, but he didn't take his gaze from hers. "_Please_, Elizabeth. I'm askin please."

She unlocked the cuffs.

Rubbing his chafed wrists, he took a second to just watch her. Her eyes were closed and her breathing shallow – she clearly expected him to turn on her savagely…. But where would be the fun in immediately doing what she expected?

So he put his arms around her first and kissed her deeply, tenderly as any lover might. As the tension slowly left her, he led her across the room. "I believe I said somethin about a wall?" he reminded. She swallowed as he closed a hand softly around her throat and steered her around til her back was flat against the wall.

When he released her she stepped forward, so he took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her back. She stepped forward again, with a little more challenge, so this time he did it hard enough to qualify as slamming. Picture frames rattled on their hooks and she would have gasped, had not her mouth been occupied by a very sudden and fierce kiss.

He kissed her til her head spun, sucking the breath from her lungs, and then without further ado he opened her robe, held one of her legs up over his hip, and steadily forced himself inside her.

She was not really ready and the friction was terrible, searing her painfully the whole way in. She jerked but by the time she had her wits together enough to react usefully, his body was flush against hers and she had taken every agonizing inch. "Please," she breathed into his ear, clinging to him. "It burns."

"Oh, I know." He withdrew very carefully, savoring the way she shook and twitched, and then held himself poised at her entrance, just barely brushing her sex with his. "Now tell me, miss," he whispered. "How will it feel, d'you think, when I _really_ start in on ye the way I do?"

She made a few high helpless noises but couldn't find actual words. He put his hand over her mouth "In case ye scream," and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Elizabeth." She heard it as though from a very great distance, and opened her eyes. He was smiling at her. "Are ye afraid?"

Her mouth fell open as he let go and stepped away from her. "You- you..." He only laughed. She couldn't catch her breath, hr blood was pounding in her ears… "I think I'm going to faint."

"Then I suppose we'd best lie you down," he said, clearly pleased with himself. "I can have ye up against the wall some other time."

She staggered over to the bed, undressed with a lot of help, and fell back among the pillows (the _clean _pillows, a very nice change from their usual meeting-place). "You are a demon."

"Aye, and you, missie, be some very great fun," he complimented right back, before swooping down on her.

He gave her a bout of what would have to be called _lovemaking_, complete with passionate kisses, firm though nonviolent caresses, and at last, when she begged for it, a sweet and gentle penetration.

Of course, once he was finally buried in her warm wet heat, all bets were off – he couldn't possibly concentrate on pleasing her when he felt so unspeakably wonderful himself.

But she hardly seemed to mind, holding him and urging him on as he quickened towards the pace he liked best. "Lizabeth stop it," he growled, one last attempt not to descend into complete selfishness.

She ignored him. "Captain, please," she breathed, running her hands over the muscles of his back and shoulders. "Let go."

Resisting now would be futile and it would be silly to try, so he drove into her deep and hard and just went for it.

He was giving off those low guttural sounds that meant he was almost there, but with her body already overheated from all the attention he had lavished on it, Elizabeth climaxed well before he did. In the aftermath of her pleasure she hung on, almost sobbing with the intensity of it as he pounded home his last strokes and then spilled into her, gasping her name.

Afterwards, when they had rested half an hour tangled up under the covers together, she thought to ask, "I don't know how safe it is for you in the city… how long are you going to stay here for?"

She thought, especially after the –ahem– _trust issue_ earlier, he might reproach her for asking about his plans, but instead he just thought it over and nodded. "I suppose I might be stoppin by once more tomorrow… after all, I've still got to bend ye over that table."

* * *

TBC.

One more chapter is still to come. Please drop me a review and tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Elizabeth awoke to a number of none-too-gentle pats to the face. Barbossa was standing over her looking gleeful and a tad sinister, so she closed her eyes again with a loud pretend snore to provoke him.

He heaved a loud sigh and then slapped her with a little more force. She opened her eyes to watch, and he did it again. Her cheeks were pink, less with the blows than with a blush - as usual, a measure of violence had gone quite a ways to putting her in the mood. "Mornin, miss," he said cheerfully, groping her through the covers.

She wiped the sleep from her eyes and grinned. "You're up early. Come in." She flipped the covers down.

He sat down and scooped her up onto his lap so he could fondle her properly. He slid a hand up her leg under her nightgown. "Still warm."

"I have a feeling I'll get warmer," she said, wriggling happily on his lap. "I have an appointment with that table, remember?"

He began to rub her where it counted. "Sore?"

"Not sore enough." She put her arms around his neck, kissed his temple, and then had a thought. "Why? Is it different bent forwards?" Her voice was equal parts worry and excitement when she asked, "Is it going to hurt?"

He took his hand out of her nightgown so he could lick his fingers before using them. Halfway through the project she took over for him. She meant to give his hand a sensual sort of tongue-bath, but within seconds he was scrubbing two fingers roughly over her tongue, twisting his hand inside her mouth, hooking her jaw down to make her to open wider.

When he was satisfied with the job she had done, he reached under her skirt and began pressing his way slowly into her body. She closed her eyes and repeated, "So will it? Will it hurt?"

He chuckled. "If it does, I won't stop – if that's what you're askin."

As her body became more accommodating he gave her more and then more again, so as not to cause a friction burn like yesterday's, which had been so tight it had hurt even him. But she'd deserved it.

Apparently she was thinking of the same thing. "You frightened me so badly last night," she laughed breathlessly as he touched her. "I thought you were going to split me in half."

"A treasure like you, split in half? T'would be a shameful waste." As though to balance out the sentiment of what he had just said, he applied a hard pinch to the tender underside of her breast. "Enough talkin - are ye ready?"

"You're the stable boy," she breathed into his ear, shocked and delighted at her own boldness. "You tell me."

He stood her up and pulled her towards the table. After one nice deep kiss, he spun her around, pushed her down on the table, and flipped her skirt up over her back.

He slid all the way in with one smooth, powerful movement. The angle was different than the usual, and she squeaked in surprise at the new feeling. "All right?" he growled, beginning to move without waiting for an answer.

It took her a moment to put words to it. Yesterday's romp had left her feeling hot and swollen _down there_, and every stroke seemed to fill her nearly to the point of pain. "Yes but it's... please... be gentle?"

Gripping her at hip and shoulder, he bent down to purr laughter into her ear. "Gentle? Are ye perhaps mistakin me for that husband of yours?" He knew he should ease up, as she was right about the unusual intensity, but it was an effort. Her body seemed so reluctant to accommodate him that it was almost like taking a virgin. A virgin who knew her way around the bedroom, though, and was delighted, not terrified, with what was happening to her. In other words, it was perfect. "Elizabeth... you'd best feel like this the next time I see you."

"What?" She had hardly heard a word – it was becoming more pleasurable (though only a tiny bit more comfortable) with every second that passed.

"You feel good," he explained as coherently as he could between breaths. He bent her a little lower, so she rested her elbows on the table. "I like it… I'd be much obliged if y'were to do it again for me." He realized that _come to me feeling as if you've just finished with me_ was something of a bizarre request, so despite being in a state where concentration was impossible, he tried to make more sense of it as he drove into her. "You could plague your husband for help…"

Her _husband_? At the idea of beautiful, gentle Will suddenly pouncing on her to nail her the way Barbossa always did, Elizabeth shivered with delight.

She had to hear more. "How exactly?"

"…perhaps crawl into a couple of sailors' beds," he continued, speeding up a little.

"Captain!" she gasped, trying to stand up a little straighter as he jostled her. "You'd have me…" She couldn't even say it. He would send her off, cavalier as anything, to be _used _by men she didn't even know? She saw a flash of rough and careless hands all over her… Barbossa watching with satisfaction…

For no apparent reason her insides seized up and she realized she'd become so excited she might explode. And _he_ wasn't much better – he had both hands at her waist now, holding her hard enough to bruise, drilling into her with everything he had. "Oh, God," she moaned. She knew she was in raptures over something really filthy, they both were, but it just didn't seem possible to fight it. "How else…"

He took her by the hair and pulled her head back a little. "I don't _care _how." He licked the side of her face from her jaw to her temple. "Do it…yourself…if you've a mind. But miss… see that you come to me…feelin… like you feel now. Lizabeth-"

"It's good?" she asked as if she didn't know. He'd let go of her hair and was moving in all sorts of uncoordinated ways, bracing on her hip, reaching around for her chest, pressing down on the back of her neck…

Finally he squeezed her tight to him and sank his teeth into her shoulder, and finished even louder and harder than usual.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling, so disoriented that it didn't occur to her right away that this meant he would stop.

Fortunately, his mind was functioning just a little better than hers. Before she even recognized the threat of frustration, he reached around and gave her what little rub she needed to fall over the edge with him.

Elizabeth eventually returned to earth to the feeling of comparatively soft kisses on the back of her neck. "Mmm. Hello," she said. She squeaked when he pulled out and straightened up slowly. "All right – _now _I'm sore enough."

"Accordin to who?" he drawled, but made no move to pounce on her again.

She wrapped her arms around him and listened to his heart pounding. They stood in silence until she thought over what they had just done, and she had to know… "Captain? Would you really ask me to… you know… to others…"

He didn't have to think long for an answer. "I'd kill you if you did."

"Well, good. I'd kill _you _if you asked me."

"You would not," he said easily.

"And neither would _you_!"

He sighed. "Elizabeth, look at me." He pushed her to arms' length and hunched over to stare into her eyes. "I could kill ye if I wanted to, miss, never doubt it."

After what he had just said? After everything they had done? "Stop it – you could not," she snapped, shrugging his hands off.

He grabbed her and shook her. "Now don't be tellin me what I _will_ and _will not_ do, missie!" he snapped back, louder. "Or so help me, I'll-"

She never found out what he meant to do, because at that moment the door burst open and they both turned to see Will Turner rush in.

* * *

TBC.

Yep, all good things come to an end.

Although even good things can have an epilogue :o)

Leave me a review if you liked this story.


	6. Chapter 6

Barbossa was on his third massive tankard of grog when a voice over his shoulder said quietly, "I've heard you come to Tortuga this time every year."

He took another sip of his drink. "Apparently I'm not the only one," he answered without turning around. He was determined to show neither surprise – after all, what on earth would he be doing here if he didn't know she would come? – nor delight, which would be all the more undignified since it was genuine.

He had actually thought about Elizabeth a number of times over the past half-year, even when he was not in the bedroom. He'd worried a little, mindful of what _he _would do to her if he'd caught her with a man the way Will had…

But Will was not him, and Elizabeth was so clever and free of conscience that she had probably solved the problem within five minutes. That morning, she'd sported a vicious bite mark on her shoulder and bruises everywhere. Her most important bits were red and swollen and exquisitely raw. If her husband, blinded by love and prodded in the right direction by a few tears, were to look for the evidence of rape... he would certainly find it. The way Barbossa had put a knife to her throat to make his escape could only help with that.

Besides, Will Turner was hardly the type to throw his beloved out of the house after she had just finished bearing him a child… and even _less_ the type to murder her in a jealous rage… or so the captain assured himself whenever the odd worry for his wench surfaced.

When he thought sufficient time had passed to demonstrate indifference, he turned slowly on his stool and smiled at her. "Evenin." He patted his knee and hugged her when she climbed aboard.

After a while he raised his head from her chest to look her in the face. "Things all right at home, missie?"

She _tsk_ed at him, shaking her head. "Now, none of that – do I ever ask _you_?"

"Fair enough." They stood up and his hands began moving over her with a little more purpose. "After all," he purred, smiling wider, "It's just tonight."

* * *

The End.

Seriously, if you liked it… say something! Maybe I'll write something else soon. My brain teems with NC-17 pirates material. I'm trying to tell myself that's a good thing…


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